


For Science's Sake

by Night-Mare (Aoife)



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Poly Skies/Poly Sky Sets, Consensual Dubious Consent, Dehumanisation/Doll Kink, M/M, Pre-Negotiated-Kink, fantasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 23:54:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20805080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/pseuds/Night-Mare
Summary: Spanner needs a break from his experiments and Hayato has no reason to complain about having to help ...





	For Science's Sake

He swirls his tongue around the lollipop he’s working on, thoughtfully, contemplating what he’d like to replace it with; he was feeling the need for something savoury, and there had to be a reasonable target somewhere in his vicinity. Perhaps Shōichi? Blow jobs were an excellent way of distracting his best friend from a mad science streak, and if he hadn’t emerged from his lab for a couple of days, the likelihood was that the redhead hadn’t, either, unless Byakuran had gotten fed up of being ignored.

Unfortunately, Shōichi’s lab is empty, and when he checks the trash can, he finds an empty marshmallow packet, which means Byakuran’s had the same idea. He could go and join them, but Byakuran played _very_ specific games with Shōichi. (‘Shō-chan will be good for me, yes?’) And he didn’t feel like being ‘good’ for the Sky right now. 

He slides back out of the room, and contemplates which of the other labs to check; did he want to deal with their occupants? The explosion - followed by an explosion of profanity - decides things for him; Hayato Gokudera on his hands and knees - hole open and slick and ready for his cock - sounds like an _excellent_ treat. And the Storm would be in no state to continue experimentation after an explosion of _that_ magnitude, even if he was likely uninjured.

Half the lab is ruined; not uncommon in here, and part of why Mukuro oversees the labs. It will all be repaired as soon as the Mist deigns to pay attention to what’s going on in his territory. (He’d wondered why a non-Science-oriented Mist had insisted on the labs as his territory, but Tsuna’s explanation had made painful sense, and he didn’t begrudge Mukuro the ability to _see_ what they were doing so he could be sure they weren’t engaged in non-consensual human experimentation.) But for now, Hayato looks ready to destroy the other half of the lab, and that’s _perfect_. He can’t face the Storm in open combat; his techniques are painfully weak to Hayato’s, primarily because of the sheer versatility of his Flames, and the corrosive ‘poison’ that overexposure to Bianchi had induced. He wasn’t here for a fight though, and when Hayato whirls on him, he has his lollipop and the power of suggestion; he maintains eye contact and _licks_ it. 

Hayato freezes, and bingo. There were a number of ways that an adrenaline surge could go, and his ‘suggestion’ had successfully derailed the Storm from his more typical response to a failed experiment. Pushing Hayato back against the wall, and dropping to his own knees - hardened against the discomfort of kneeling on concrete - he crunches his lollipop and swallows, before nuzzling at Hayato’s cock through his pants. From experience, he knows that the Storm has a pleasantly oversized cock and good manners, and it’s no hardship at all to help him unwind. “Fuck. Yeah, I suppose taking the edge off before I get back to experimenting would be a good idea. Adrenaline and Science make for a shitty mix.”

He snorts, and reaches up to unfasten Hayato’s pants, and palms the lollipop stick in the process; the Storm isn’t wearing boxers, and he’d suspect it was for his convenience, except that from the state of the lab and the lack of daylight it’s more likely that Hayato had an idea and rushed to the lab from his bed. Between the adrenaline and his suggestive actions, Hayato was already half-hard, which suited him perfectly; he liked the feeling of a cock hardening in his mouth, and it would let him warm-up before he tried to take the whole thing. And it would give him a chance to make sure it was _hard_ for an orgasm to catch him unaware; he wanted to _indulge_ himself in ‘breaking’ Hayato.

Hayato tastes musky, but not unpleasant; he’d definitely rushed straight from his bed, but had probably had a shower before sleep, and he tongues him gently, coaxing Hayato to full hardness. It earns him a gentle twitch of Hayato’s hips, and once he’s sure that the Storm isn’t about to take over and try to fuck his throat - occasionally he got carried away, and he really wanted to know which of their friends enjoyed being used like that - he retrieves the oil from his pocket and absently slicks his fingers. Hayato groans when he slides three into him without any warning, body well-practised, and, from the feel of things, still loose from whoever had fucked him the night before. He curls his fingers, rubbing at the walls of the Storm’s hole gently, searching for the gland that would make Hayato whimper and fold over him.

He finds it; it’s swollen in a way that confirms his guess about what Hayato had indulged in before bed, and he milks it _ruthlessly_, even sending gentle pulses of his Flames through it to coax it to work harder. Hayato takes it, rocking back onto his fingers and forward into his mouth, over and over again until the cock on his tongue slides effortlessly into his throat and then pulses, Hayato folded over him and panting like he’s led a major battle. But he’s not done yet; he lays Hayato down on the floor of the lab, and covers himself in the oil still on his fingers. The half-insensate Storm sprawls there, his body still twitching with pleasure, and he levers him over onto his front and shoves a balled-up lab coat under Hayato’s hips. It’s not quite what he’d pictured earlier, but it’s still delicious, and he lines himself up with the other’s well-used hole and slides in, in one effortless stroke, enjoying the gentle ripple of exhausted muscles around the intrusion that his cock represented.

Nerves run on electricity, and Lightning is just that. He doesn’t have the reserves of Lambo, or of Byakuran, but he makes up for it with sufficient control that he can test a microscopic printed circuit without burning it out - or stimulate a nerve without damaging it. It’s no good in a fight, but when he’s feeling perverse, it’s _perfect_. Stealing control of the nerves that cause Hayato’s muscles to tighten around him is easy, even through the hum of his arousal; he’s practised this on Shōichi over and over again, making his friend sit in his lap for twenty-two hours of the day every day for a week until he’d gotten the hang of it. (Shōichi hadn’t complained, but the redhead was like that; being manhandled got him off.)

Hayato _moans_, and he shifts his angle slightly, intent on abusing the sore and swollen gland in the wall of the Storm’s hole further; he wanted to see how much would be too much for Hayato. Between the actions of his Flames and the slick, hot flesh surrounding his cock, it was like fucking his perfect toy; no protests, no mental presence, just a warm body under him, enjoying his cock. It was just such a shame it normally took so much effort to get anyone into this state; perhaps he should try leaving Byakuran on a fucking machine overnight and see if that wore him down enough to be fun to fuck? Or perhaps he needed to have a conversation with Mukuro and then do a little biological experimentation; after all, half the fun was how swollen and sensitive Hayato’s prostate was … Hayato’s own Lightning, comparatively untrained, weaker than his own, flares and crackles under the Storm’s skin, disrupting his control of the smooth muscles of his _very_ comfortable sheath. He doesn’t fight it; given the way Hayato’s body was convulsively clamping around his cock, this was exactly what he’d been hoping for. Instead, he rides it out, fucking Hayato through it with a vicious precision that keeps the soft, swollen sensitive patch inside the Storm stimulated.

Hayato keens when his orgasm finally peters out again, and he hums mischievously as he bends down and presses a kiss against the back of the Storm’s neck. “Colour?”

“Green.” The word’s mumbled and slurred, and he grins and sits back, pulling Hayato with him - he wasn’t planning to leave his warm sheath anytime in the next few hours - until the Storm was forced to take some of his own weight; he leans sideways and grabs another two of the labcoats, shoving those under Hayato, too. That done, he returns to lazily rolling his hips; if Hayato could answer him he wasn’t done-done, yet, and he wanted a _whimper_. It was what would let him _really_ enjoy this. 

(Not that he wasn’t enjoying himself, but that little choked whimper was the _sweetest_ of sweet sounds. He really did have to strap Byakuran to a fucking machine and see if that would let the Electric Sky let go enough to make it.)

Hayato cums around him again, muscles quivering with exhaustion, hole almost slack around his cock, and maybe he’s getting close; he’s almost tempted to stop, to allow himself to recover slightly. He bets, given how Hayato’s body is starting to give up, that he could fist the Storm fairly easily, or if they’d been anyone else around, share his hole without too much effort. On another day, he’d smear a little blood on the floor and summon Mukuro to help him break Hayato, but he was feeling greedy. 

Hayato whines when he withdraws; for that matter, his own _cock_ would whine if it could. The lab was frigid compared to the heat of Hayato’s hole, but now he’d thought about fisting the Storm, he’d have to try it, and see if he could push Hayato right up to the edge he wanted him teetering on. Sitting back on his heels, he admires the mess that he’s already made of Hayato; the Storm is flushed, muscles trembling, hair a mess, and when he lets his eyes drift down the length of his body, his hole so well fucked that it was failing to close, failing even to try, edges slick with the oil he’d used and swollen from hours of friction. 

He reaches out and touches, a single finger tracing that rim and Hayato comes achingly close to whimpering the way he wants him to. “You can take it Hayato-kun.” 

There’s a little oil left in the bottle, and he coats his hand in it carefully; he didn’t want to damage one of his favourite toys, and while he liked dragging that whimper, that little hitched sound of pain from his playmates, it needed to be from too much pleasure, not physical damage. Given the state of Hayato’s hole, though, if he wants a response - he curves his fingers, tucks his thumb in, and presses it to the overused opening. Hayato takes it with a whine that stutters into the beginning of a whimper, and he rotates his hand gently, stimulating the Storm’s rim mercilessly with his knuckles for a long moment.

When it has earned him another stuttered moan, he pushes in, and admires the way Hayato’s hole swallows his hand, the rim closing around his wrist. It was so pretty and swollen, and if they were in a bed, he’d use his tongue to tease Hayato’s rim until it was flushed and plump; he’d have to save that idea for later, and dig out one of the really big toys for the fucking machine to speed things up. Instead, he curls his hand into a fist and pumps it a half dozen times, twisting with each thrust until he gets just the right angle. Doing so finally earns him the first of the proper whimpers; it makes his cock jump, sending a flush of pleasure up his spine, and he keeps working Hayato until there’s a hiccuped sob, and he barely manages to remember to unfurl his fist before he pulls it out - lest he send the Storm to Ryohei for a round of repair work - before he sinks back into Hayato’s spasming body and fucks his pleasure into it, spilling deep inside. 

When he pulls out, Hayato is a sprawled wreck, brain switched off, and he grins, using one of the lab coats to clean himself off before he tucks himself back into his trousers. Once that’s done, he scoops the Storm up and carries him back to his own lab; that had been just what he needed to clear his mind and he had an experiment to finish. He just needed to keep Hayato ready to _celebrate_ with; fortunately, he had a cot and one of his fucking machines in the lab and manufacturing something to keep the Storm insensate wouldn’t take more than a few minutes.

(It’s very pleasant to have such a pretty display in the corner of his lab; he’d had to use some rope to make sure Hayato stayed in place, and adjust the length of the machine’s thrusts, but once he’d got it _right_ it had proved incredibly motivating. He’d have to ask for volunteers next time he had a deadline.)


End file.
